


Beatles Hurt/Comfort Fic

by Anonymous6285



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Anxiety, Crying, Dreams and Nightmares, Emetophobia, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Mentioned Abuse, Nightmares, Overdosing, Panic Attacks, Past Abuse, Sad, Stomach Ache, Vomiting, kind of maybe - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2020-06-24 07:52:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19719370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous6285/pseuds/Anonymous6285
Summary: Short things about the Beatles hurt/comfort.Requests Open :)





	1. Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringo has a nightmare, and John is there for him.

When John heard crying from the hallway, he immediately untangled himself from his sheets and rushed out of his room, trying to get to where the crying was. Ringo’s room. He let himself in to find the drummer on the floor near the wall.

Ringo had his knees pulled up to his chest, sobs wracking his entire body. “Get away from me,” he mumbled. “Leave me alone.”

John knelt down next to him, putting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Richard? Richie, you okay?” When he got no response, he was about to stand up and try to carry Ringo back to his bed, but somebody grabbed onto his sleeves.

“Please don’t leave me.” John sat back against the wall.

“I won’t. I won’t leave you.” John didn’t protest when Ringo pushed himself up against him, practically melting into his chest. John wrapped his arms around him. “Hey, hey, I’ve got you.”

“I’m sorry. I was afraid to get you. I didn’t want to call you. It’s the middle of the night. I’d wake the others up, too.”

“Richie, you know you can call me whenever you want, even if you don’t have a reason. Speaking of… what’s going on? Did you have another nightmare?” Ringo nodded.

“H-he was back. And he wouldn’t stop kicking me and punching me a-and..” He started crying harder, and John started to rub his back.

“It’s alright. You’re safe. You’re fine.”

“John, I-I’ll never forget him. I don’t want to have to .. see him every time I fall asleep.” John helped him to stand up and back over to his bed.

“How’d you get all the way over here?” Ringo shrugged. 

“I just woke up and I was over there, and I was too scared to get up and go over to the bed.” He looked down at the floor. “I’m sorry I keep waking you up over this. You should sleep, Johnny. I’m just keeping you up, being so immature. God, I should be able to handle my own nightmares. I’m a grown man.”

“There’s nothing to be ashamed of, Richie. If you need a little help to get over this, it’s perfectly fine. I mean it didn’t even happen that long ago, mate.”

Ringo looked up at him. “Well, thanks anyway for just being there for me.”

“Anything for you, Rich. Come get me if you need anything. Sleep tight.”

“Okay. You, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to request :)


	2. Pills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ringo returns home to find the George has had a few too many sleeping pills in attempt to get some rest.
> 
> Warning: self-induced vomiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sorry about that weird break. School hit me like a concrete slab then haha. Anyway, here's another chapter. I'll have more out hopefully this week :) I'm working on the requests from the last chapter.

As soon as Ringo opened the door, he could hear sobbing coming from his friends room. He had had a long day and was looking forward to getting home and going to bed, but he did not expect George to be awake at this hour. The younger man was usually in bed by nine or ten. 

But being the good friend he was, he crept into the guitarists room to see what was the matter. 

“Geo? Is everything alright?” It clearly wasn’t. George spun around from his spot sitting cross legged on the floor, his face tear stained. Ringo was very confused. 

“Richie, I think I did something bad.” At that, the drummer was expecting him to say he dropped a plate or accidentally burnt his toast. He wasn’t at all ready for what he saw next. 

As he got closer to George, though, he inevitably noticed the open and empty bottle of pills sitting on the ground. 

“George? What happened?” He helped him up and led him to the bathroom, heart beating fast as he assumed the answer to come. 

“I couldn’t sleep, and- and I found your sleeping pills.” Ringo took a deep breath, trying to stay calm for the boy. 

“George, how many did you take?” He got a shrug as a reply. 

“The rest. Like half the bottle. I dunno.” 

Ringo immediately hurried the two of them along down the hall, worry coursing through him now. “Alright, Geo. I need you to stay awake, okay? How long ago did you take them?”

“Just before you… got home.”

“Okay. Did you take anything else? At all?”

“My vitamins this morning.” George managed a sloppy smile as the drummer plopped him own in front of the toilet. “Oh, no. Rich, what are we doing?”

Ringo knew how much George hated throwing up, but there was nothing else he could do. “Just calm down, Geo. It’s alright.” He got up next to George and put one hand in his hair. “Put your hands on the seat, it’ll be easier to stable yourself.” 

With this final warning, Ringo stuck his finger into George’s throat, prompting the man to start gagging. “It’s alright, Geo. Let it out. Let the bad stuff out.” 

George began throwing up, his upper body heaving with the motion. He had more tears now streaming down his face, wishing it was over already. 

After he had thrown up a few times, Ringo pulled his hand out, but still he stayed with George in front of the toilet. 

“You doing alright?” Ringo asked, and George only buried his head in Ringo’s chest. He curled himself into a ball, which really pulled at the drummer’s heart strings.

“Everything hurts, Richie,” he groaned, voice wavering as if he were on the brink of tears. That’s when Ringo started to cry. He couldn’t help himself as he gripped onto George. He had tried to stay calm up until this point, but couldn’t any longer.

“Oh, Geo, it’s alright. I’m sure everything will be just fine.” 

“No, it hurts.”

“What does?”

“My stomach feels funny. And I just wanna go to bed.” 

Ringo, of course, knew that he shouldn’t let George go to bed. He took a deep breath to calm himself again. “You can’t do that, honey. Do you think you can walk, or do you want me to carry you out to the car?”

“I don’t wanna walk.”

“That’s alright.” Ringo flushed the toilet and washed his hands before bending down to grab the guitarist and hoisting him up into his arms. “We’re gonna get you to the hospital, okay?”

George started to tremble in his arms. “No, Richie, please, no. Anything but that.”

“We have to make sure you’re alright. I’m so sorry.”

“But I promise I didn’t have that many, Rich. I only had four. I promise. I was just so scared. And I threw them up. I’ll be alright, I promise. Please?”

The tone in his voice really made Ringo feel horrible for him, so he reluctantly nodded. “Yeah, alright. Let’s get you to bed then.”

The two of them got to George’s bedroom, and Ringo set him down on the bed, sitting down next to him.

“Can you stay a while, Rich?” Ringo nodded. 

“Of course. Try to get some sleep.” George was too out of it to realise that Ringo was covering him up and slipping under the blanket with him.

“I’m sorry I stole your pills, Richie.”

Ringo ran a hand through George’s hair slowly. “It’s alright. Next time, though, you can just wait till I’m home and ask, okay? You’re more than welcome to them.” George didn’t reply, and Ringo watched as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

He wound up staying next to his friend all night, and it was the best sleep either of them had gotten in quite a while.


	3. Troubles Sleeping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Paul wakes up from a terrifying nightmare and goes to John for comfort

The second Paul’s eyelids flew open, a jolt of relief ran through him, but he could still feel the low sense of dread that made him want to throw up. Every time he closed his eyes, he could still see the man that was chasing him down the street, and he still felt the absolute horror of not being able to move his feet from the ground. He laid back down and tried to fall asleep, but his heart was beating so fast, and he was so sure that he was going to die right then and there. 

The feeling of impending doom was one he felt often, but it always worse after a nightmare. He timidly stood up out of his bed and walked out into the hall. Every step he took sent fear through his body, and he wanted to burst out in tears, but he didn’t want to wake up all of his bandmates.

Soon, he arrived at John’s room, not even sure if he was consciously on his way there or if his body knew which way to go already, but he opened the door slowly.

It creaked, and he walked up to John’s bed, standing next to it and staring at the sleeping man. It felt awkward, but he was much too nervous to wake him. 

Soon enough, John did wake, and just as he rolled around in bed, he saw Paul standing next to him, shaking, tears spilling out of his eyes.

“Oh, dear. Paul, is everything alright?” He was immediately at Paul’s side, sitting him down on the bed, but Paul didn’t respond. “Macca? Are you alright?”

“Can I sleep with you, Johnny?” 

John tried to hide his shock, wrapping an arm around his friend. “Of course you can. How long have you been standing here?”

“I had a n-nightmare.” Once again, Paul dodged answering the question asked.

“You could have woken me up, dear. I wouldn’t have been upset.” John pulled his blankets back to let Paul in.

“I’m sorry.” 

“You’re alright.” Paul climbed into the bed with John, a fresh batch of tears overtaking him. John didn’t say anything as Paul curled into himself, sobbing. He hugged him close, only hoping Paul would be okay, and that whatever happened in that nightmare wouldn’t be with him too much longer.

Either way, he snuggled up with his friend, and Paul fell asleep to the touch of John, relief flooding him in knowing his friend was so great to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading :) requests always open


	4. George’s Stomach Ache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George has a stomach ache, and Paul and John are quick to make sure he feels alright.
> 
> Warning: this one also has vomiting

The second John let himself fall onto the couch, he caught a glimpse of the slouching man now sitting next to him. The feeling low in Geroge’s stomach made him feel more like a balloon than a man. John turned his head when a small groan left the guitarist’s lips.

“Ate too much, did we?” He could already sense the tension and thought a small joke could help lighten the mood. But when George didn’t feel good, he really didn’t feel good. As soon as the words left John’s mouth, he regretted them, and he heard a small sniffle. Shit.

“My stomach hurts.” It almost sounded more like a whimper than actual words. So much that he felt his heart hurt.

“Oh. You’re alright. Need some water?”

George shook his head, sure he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything at all at that moment.

“Let’s watch the telly then, yeah?” John turned the television set on, but George didn’t have the strength to tell him he wanted it off. He curled up in a ball and fell onto his side, groaning in discomfort even more.

“George?”

“I don’t feel well at all, John.”

It was at this time that John left the room, leaving the bloated man on the couch to sit up and see where he went. The motion of this seemed to be too much, though. Geroge noticed that John hadn’t actually left the room but made his way in front of the younger man. Before George could think, though, he felt a familiar feeling in his throat, and suddenly, it was forcing food up out of him. Tears sprung to his eyes as the feeling of something chunky grew more and more. 

Once again, he noted that John was gone, and he felt pure shame burning in his face. Of course John didn’t want to be with him after he’s probably thrown up all over him. More tears rolled down his face as an additional pain appeared in his heart.

Suddenly, warm arms wrapped around him. “Geo? Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

“Macca?”

“Yeah. It’s alright.” Geroge let himself be picked up and led away from the couch. George mumbled out some sort of apology, and immediately after, he felt a hand making circles on the small of his back. “You’re alright.”

George continued to try to ignore the situation he was in, in hopes that he would calm down a bit, but it didn’t seem to be working. As soon as he glimpsed down at John’s pants, he saw that they were practically coated in his sick. John noticed what he was staring at, because he responded to it.

“George, please don’t worry about it. You didn’t do it on purpose, so…” He trailed off, but George looked away.

Paul cradled his head until they arrived at the bathroom, where the young guitarist was quick to sit on the cold tile floor.

“I’m really sorry. Please tell John I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure he knows. Let’s just focus on getting you better first, yeah?”

George, despite feeling he was a burden on his friends, let Paul get him into some new clothes, and stayed in the bathroom alone as long as he could.

“Geo?” The calling of his name pulled him out of his state of self pity. It was Paul.

“I’m alright.”

“Do you want to come on out? John’s making some tea.”

“I think I’m gonna stay here for a while, actually. But thanks.” George thought for a minute that Paul had left, but the bassist spoke again.

“He really hopes you’re feeling okay. And he kind of has to pee, so…”

George did suddenly feel bad about hogging the bathroom, but he still didn’t think he could go out there. “Please tell him I’m still very sorry. I’ll come out when I’m ready.”

“I’ll let him know.”

Now George was sure Paul left, and he burst into tears of sheer embarrassment, knowing very well he could have just snuck off to the loo, thrown up, and pretend it had never happened. But he just had to stay on the couch and end up making a big scene of it.

Sobs escaped him loudly, when suddenly, they weren’t the only sound he heard. A knock on the door. Shit.

“Hey, George I know this really the best time, but I was wondering how long you’ll be in there.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Johnny. I’ll go ahead and get out.”

John didn’t know what to say until George slipped out of the door, attempting to get away without looking at John.

“Hey.” His voice was so soft, but it achieved its goal, as George looked over at him, eyes red with tears. “George, it’s alright.” He pulled the younger man into a hug. “It wasn’t your fault. We both know that. Please just know that nobody is mad at you. I promise.”

“Thanks, John, but I really just want to be alone right now.”

“Paul told me you thought that I was mad. George, I’m really not.”

“I know.” 

Without warning, John scooped George up in a hug. “I love you, Geo.” the young guitarist blushed. “As a friend of course.”

Then he smiled. “You, too.” 

John let go, and George couldn’t help but stand there for another few seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Request something if you want :)


End file.
